


Gone

by cdreaiton



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Post-Audio 011: Broken, Self-Esteem Issues, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cdreaiton/pseuds/cdreaiton
Summary: The team has just found out about Jack's immortality, when he suddenly vanishes from the Hub, only to return just as suddenly a few months later. How did Ianto cope with the man he cared for disappearing? And how did the team handle Ianto?As requested, my version of the events that took place while Jack was away with the Doctor. Obviously, set between S1 and S2, ending after KKBB. References the audio drama Broken.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [st_mick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/gifts).



> St_mick requested this, so here it is.
> 
> Might be a little confusing if you haven't listened to the audio drama Broken, as the events in it are referenced rather heavily at one point, but you should be able to enjoy it even without having heard it. 
> 
> Also references S1 of DW "Boom Town."

**_Day 0_ **

“What do you mean something took him? Took him where?” Ianto asked, his mind trying to process the information he’d just received from Gwen.

“That’s the thing… I don’t know,” she responded, looking around the empty Hub, “One second he was in his office undoing his death certificate, and the next… there was this weird, almost grinding sound, and he was just… gone…”

Ianto pushed the tray of coffees into her hands and sprinted to Tosh’s computer, immediately pulling up the CCTV footage of all the Hub’s exits. The others crowded in around him, staring at the screen as an old fashioned blue police box appeared out of thin air only a few meters from the water tower. Seconds later, Jack came into view, hurtling across the Plass towards the box, coat billowing behind him, a large black backpack slung across his shoulders. Just as Jack reached the police box, it disappeared, taking the leader of Torchwood Three with it.

“What the bloody hell is that thing doin’ back here?” Owen asked, voice raising in both confusion and anger.

Ianto spun in the chair so fast he nearly rammed the backrest into Gwen’s elbow.

“Back? You’ve seen that box before?” He asked, breath coming in shallower.

“Uh… yeah.” Owen answered tentatively, surprised by Ianto’s sudden movement and rapid question. “‘Bout two years back that thing showed up, same spot and everything.”

“Did Jack go after it then too?” Gwen asked, looking between Owen and the computer where the footage of Jack was replaying.

“That’s just it,” Tosh took over explaining, “He told us to ignore it…”

***

_“What is it, Jack?” Toshiko asked, pointing to the strange blue box that had appeared a few minutes earlier, practically on their doorstep. She’d been running a scan on the object when a young black man had approached it and gone inside. He hadn’t come out yet._

_Jack sighed and smiled softly, reaching out a hand as though to touch the screen, but then he seemed to catch himself and stood up straight, jamming his hands in his pockets._

_“He’s a traveller, and that box is his… well, his ship I guess you could call it. It runs on the same kind of energy the rift puts out so, every once in a while, he stops by for a day or so to refuel.” Jack smiled widely at her, helping ease her fears that they were under invasion… again. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just ignore it. He’ll be gone by morning.”_

_“Actually, that reminds me. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something Jack. This nuclear power station the mayor’s planning,” Tosh started, shuffling through the papers on her desk until she found the file she was looking for. “I was worried the radiation might cause problems with the rift, so I ran some calculations. I know it’s not our area, but there’s something off about this power station. I’m worried it could be dangerous. Maybe we should…”_

_“Already taking care of it.” Jack assured her with a hand on her shoulder. “By tomorrow morning, those plans will be in the bin. Permanently.”_

_“And how d’you know that?” Owen asked, coming up from the med bay, “I mean, I get that I’m kinda new here and all, but unless I’m mistaken, you just told us there’s an alien parked on the roof, but that’s fine because he just needs a bit of petrol, and oh! By the way, he’ll be taking the mayor’s nuclear power station with him when he leaves.” Jack’s smile didn’t falter as Owen glared daggers at him, daring Jack to try and worm his way out of the obviously bold faced lie._

_“I told you,” Jack smirked, pointing at the screen, where the doors to the blue box had just opened. “I’m taking care of it.”_

_Four people stepped out of doors; three men and a woman, (making both Owen and Tosh wonder how so many people could fit comfortably in such a confined space.) There was the black man who’d gone in when the box had arrived; a man with short dark hair in a baggy, black leather coat; the woman, who was blonde and pretty enough that both Owen and Tosh took a second, more appraising look of her. The last member of the group made the pair do not only a double take, but a triple and quadruple take. Because despite the lack of the infamous coat he always wore, the man standing in the Plass was… Captain Jack Harkness himself._

_“But that’s not possible…” Tosh said, her gaze jumping between the screen version of Jack and the man standing beside her. “How can you be…?”_

_“Not some evil twin we need to worry about, is it?” Owen asked, his voice laced with forced levity, uncomfortable with not immediately understanding what was going on. He had a hard enough time dealing with the Captain on a good day. Trying to deal with two of them was bound to give him an aneurism. Jack laughed._

_“Hardly. Let’s just say that, a long time ago, when my timeline was a lot less linear, I stopped by Cardiff with a few friends to refuel, and happened to stop an alien from destroying the planet with a galactic surfboard powered by a nuclear meltdown happening inside a rift in time and space. And this was one of our tamer stops.” Jack boasted with a wink at Tosh. He moved to Owen’s work station and began typing._

_“Assuming I even believe that load of bollocks, that doesn’t explain why there’s two of you!” Owen practically shouted, waving his arms for extra emphasis._

_“Well, later, when I came back to Cardiff, my transport malfunctioned, and I ended up arriving a lot earlier than I planned. So, now there’s two of me. However, in order to make sure they don’t know we’re here, and we don’t interfere, changing history and causing a paradox…” Jack pressed a final key on the keyboard, and the alarms began screeching, accompanied by the nearly blinding flashing lights that signified a lockdown. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to stay here until they leave.”_

***

“He locked you in?” Gwen asked in shock.

“Yep.” Tosh confirmed with a nod, grimacing slightly as she remembered the incident. “Suzie ended up locked in the archives. She chewed Jack out about it for a month.”

“Suzie went into the archives?” Ianto was taken aback. He’d only worked with Suzie for a few months, but in that time she had never once been down to the archives, preferring to interrupt whatever Ianto was doing at the time and make him go down and fetch things for her. He shook his head at his own question. “Sorry. Not important.”

“You recognized it too.” Owen said calmly, looking at Ianto with suspicion. Ianto nodded and turned away, focusing his attention back on the computer screen.

“The man in the box, or rather, the TARDIS, is called the Doctor. Torchwood was actually founded to stop him.” Ianto took a deep, steadying breath. “He was there. At Canary Wharf. I never saw him, but Yvonne told us he was there.” A thought occurred to him, and he stood suddenly, staring at the table of artefacts that sat next to the gated cog door. “It’s gone.”

The other three turned and followed his gaze, squinting at him cautiously when they didn’t understand.

“What’s gone, mate?” Owen asked, Ianto’s uncharacteristic mood swings starting to get on his nerves.

“The hand. In the jar. It’s gone.”

When they looked again, the team realised Ianto was right. The strangely preserved appendage was missing from its normal location.

“And what’s the creepy hand have to do with Jack and this Doctor?” Owen’s impatience was growing.

“It’s his hand. The Doctor’s. Jack told me about it when we were cleaning up after that gaseous sex alien broke the jar. Well, more like he accidentally confirmed my theory. Torchwood One originally had hold of it, but it went missing a few weeks after we found it.” Ianto told them.

“So he’s been waiting for this Doctor person to come to Cardiff and refuel, so he can give him back his hand?” Gwen asked, doubtful she had actually understood the situation.

“Remember what he said before we left to get coffee? He said he couldn’t die. Or at least, he didn’t stay dead. But he also said he didn’t know why. If I used to travel with the Doctor and suddenly found myself immortal, he’d definitely be on my list of people to ask about it.” Ianto reasoned out loud.

“So, what? He pops off with the Doctor for a few days and comes back all nice and mortal?” Owen summarized with a bit more than his usual amount of sarcasm.

“Maybe,” Ianto shrugged, dropping his gaze to the floor, “Makes as much sense as anything else.”

The team stood quietly for a moment, resolutely refusing to voice the foreboding question hanging over them. _Would Jack return, or would he stay with the Doctor?_ Gwen looked around, taking in the worry and concern that seemed to be consuming each of them to varying degrees. A few hours ago, she would have been startled at how poorly Ianto was handling Jack’s disappearance, but she’d seen the way Jack had kissed the young man. There was obviously far more to their relationship than anyone had realised. She put her hand on his arm and smiled kindly when he looked up at her.

“We’ll treat it like he’s on holiday, or a mitcher. Yeah it’ll be a bit more work with him gone, but it’s only for a few days. We can handle that, yeah?” She smiled at each of them in turn as they looked at her.

Owen scoffed and turned on his heel, stomping down into the med bay. Tosh smiled sadly at Ianto, then leaned over the keyboard and started to bring up the prediction software to see what the rift had planned for the next few days. Ianto reclaimed the tray of coffees from Gwen, squared his shoulders, and gave her a small smile.

“It’s only a few days.”

She nodded her own smile increasing.

“Only a few days.”

***

**_Day 3_ **

Time seemed to drag unendingly. Ianto checked the CCTV footage for the dozenth time since he’d arrived an hour before. They had positioned one of the cameras in the Plass so that it remained pointed at the spot where the TARDIS had materialized. He knew he was being obsessive, and acting a bit more than slightly mad, but he was starting to feel desperate. And he hated himself for it. By the time the rest of the team arrived in another hour, his emotions would be back under control, buried behind his normal, emotionless mask, but for now, he pulled up the night’s footage from the other cameras in the Plass and sped through it, searching for any sign of the TARDIS or Jack.

***

**_Day 7_ **

Ianto went home to his flat after work, and everything seemed normal. He took a shower, finished off the remains of a curry in the fridge, made up the shopping lists for both his home and the Hub, then poured himself into bed to attempt to get more than four hours of uninterrupted rest. But reality was never that kind.

Less than an hour after he’d laid down, he woke with a start, his skin sheened with sweat, his sheets damp, and his mind racing, eyes darting around trying to locate the threat. Once he had assured himself that whatever nightmare had followed him back from sleep was well and truly gone, he looked around his bedroom again, and a much more hollow feeling started to build. The room felt larger and emptier, like there wasn’t enough furniture for the amount of space. There was barely a fraction of light coming through the window curtains, leaving the room dark and cold. Ianto reached out an arm and felt the bottom fall out of his stomach as his hand met the cool sheets. Empty. He was alone.

The world blurred, closing in around him. Panic spread through his veins, burning with the need to run, escape from the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. Shapes, sounds, colors, all swirling together, assaulting his senses. He had to get away, find safety, find… He stopped. The lights were dimmer now, the colors muted, and as the objects around him began to come back into focus, their familiarity helped calm his racing heart. 

“Ianto?”

He started at the sudden sound in the silence, wide eyes turning to find the source of the voice. Gwen stood a few meters behind him, arm partially raised as though to touch him, eyes dark with worry.

“Gwen?” He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear the confusion from his mind, noticing dimly that his clothes were wet and he was starting to get chilled. “What are you doing in my flat? How did you get in?”

The worry in her eyes grew, and she slipped a hand in her pocket, pulling out her mobile.

“Ianto, love. We’re not _in_ your flat. We’re in the Hub.” She kept her voice calm as she felt the keypad for the number she needed.

“Wha…?” Ianto looked around the Hub trying to figure out how he’d gotten there. He vaguely remembered something about a nightmare. He’d been afraid, alone. He needed to find… “Jack?” Ianto yelled, racing up the stairs into the Captain’s office. “Jack!”

Gwen put the phone up to her ear, dropping any pretense of pleasantries when the voice on the other end answered.

“I need you down at the Hub. Now. Ianto just showed up. He’s soakin’ wet, barely dressed, he’s dazed, he’s confused, and he thought he was still in his flat. Now he’s going ‘round the Hub, calling for Jack.”

“First off, calm down,” Owen told her evenly, “Sounds like he’s having a minor psychotic episode. They can happen sometimes when a person’s been under too much stress or through too much trauma. It’s not really unexpected. If I had to guess, he’s probably had a nightmare or saw something that triggered him to panic. Long as he’s not a danger to either himself or you, don’t try to restrain him.” Owen’s calm professional tone helped ease Gwen’s worry. “If you can get him to sit and wait, great, but no matter what you do, do _not_ tell him Jack is gone. It might send him into a complete collapse. I’ll be there in ten minutes. We’ll get him to sleep, and he’ll be right as rain in the morning. I promise.” 

As was his way, Owen hung up without saying goodbye. Gwen lowered her mobile and felt her heart twinge in pain as Ianto came out of Jack’s office, still calling out for a man who wasn’t there to answer.

***

**_Day 18_ **

The rift was predicting quiet for the night, so Ianto told the others to go home, spend the evening out, and take some time for themselves. He would watch the Hub and let them know if there was an emergency. As soon as they left, he closed down the Hub for the night, leaving only the rift monitor running. He felt his way around in the dark until he found the hatch in the floor of Jack’s office. There was a moment of hesitation as he knelt there, hand wrapped around the handle. It wasn’t because he’d never been in Jack’s bunker before. He had. Multiple times in fact. Each more enjoyable than the last. But he’d never been inside without Jack. Even as he climbed down the short ladder, he felt like an invader, trespassing somewhere off-limits and private.

Everything looked exactly the same as it had the night they’d been interrupted _in flagrante_ by an emergency call from UNIT India about spaceships over the Taj Mahal, and Ianto stood there for a moment just breathing in the scent that permeated the air that was so uniquely _Jack_ . Carefully, almost reverently, he started picking up the dirty clothes scattered around the floor, placing Jack’s in the nearby hamper and hanging his own forgotten pieces on a ladder rung. Then he straightened out the bed sheets, tucking in all the corners and flattening all the wrinkles. He hadn’t been there often enough to know where Jack kept his spare linens, but if he was being honest with himself, he probably wouldn’t have changed them even if he did. He could never wash away that scent. Because despite the pain it brought him, each breath a reminder that the man himself was gone, it was also a comfort. It was one of the things that had brought him back from his nightmares, from the edge of sanity, that wrapped around him and let him know he was safe and protected. He picked up the pillow and pressed it to his face, taking a deep breath. _Everything will be fine. Jack will be home soon, and everything will be fine._

***

For the next two and half weeks, Ianto cleaned and tidied Jack’s office at least twice a day, insisting, when asked, that Jack could be home at any moment, and he wanted to be sure everything was in perfect order so their leader could immediately return to work. Every time he made coffee, he’d bring out a tray laden with each person’s unique mug. All five of them. Carefully, he handed out each mug in order. Gwen was first. Her blood sugar tended to drop as fast as her caffeine levels, so a couple extra cubes of sugar or a few extra biscuits applied as quickly as possible tended to go a long way towards preventing later disagreements. Owen was next, as it would be pointless to head off one side of a possible argument without immediately turning and heading off the other. And Tosh, ever patient, never complained about the wait for her coffee. Jack was last, and as Ianto set the perfectly crafted mug of rich, black coffee on the desk, up and slightly to the right of the unfinished paperwork, he smiled softly. Everything was perfect. Ready and waiting for Jack to come home.

Tosh motioned to Gwen as Ianto stepped into the kitchenette to make their third round of coffee for the day, and the two women quietly slipped down the stairs into the med lab, huddling around Owen’s work station and keeping their voices hushed.

“This can’t be healthy,” Tosh insisted, her worry evident, “It’s been weeks now, but he’s acting like Jack’s going to walk back through that door any second! It’s become an obsession!”

“And for all we know, he’s right,” Owen countered, a bit harsher than he meant, “And if he wants to make an extra coffee and tidy up the office a dozen times a day, I’m not gonna say boo about it. Because it means he still has hope. He hasn’t given up.”

“What happens when he does?” Gwen asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

Owen sighed heavily and took a sip of his coffee before he answered.

“Then we hope he survives the fall.”

***

**_Day 35_ **

Ianto held the pillow and inhaled slowly, just as he’d done every night since he’d finally convinced himself to go into Jack’s room. But this time, he felt a dam break in his heart. The nightmares had been getting worse, and instead of bringing him comfort, Jack’s scent was like a mocking blow, twisting the knife in his back and reminding him that the man who had promised to keep him safe and protected, had abandoned him instead. Anger bubbled up in Ianto’s chest, making his breaths come fast and shallow. He screamed into the pillow, pulling at the corners until it blew apart in his hands. After a few deep, calming breaths, he looked around the bunker, at the bits and pieces of Jack’s shredded pillow that now littered every available surface. Tears streamed down his face as he climbed the ladder and slammed the hatch closed, unable to bear the sheer enormity of Jack’s absence in the tiny room any longer. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, curling around himself as he screamed again, the sound echoing his pain throughout the entire underground structure. Air left his lungs in huge, gasping sobs, shaking his body with such force that he fell to his knees. His mind was drowning in a hurricane sea of sorrow, guilt, and soul searing agony, his former lighthouse now the undertow dragging him beneath the waves. It consumed him, until the only thought left to him was the piercing need for the pain to end.

Ianto forced himself to his feet and stumbled down into the med bay. Pulling open the cabinet, he quickly found what he was looking for. As he swallowed down the pills with the remains of Owen’s evening coffee, his legs gave out beneath him, and he slid to the floor. He pulled his knees tight against his chest, buried his face in his trousers, and wept.

***

When Owen had first started at Torchwood Three, he’d made a few small, surreptitious changes to the med lab that had, admittedly, made him feel a bit silly in hindsight. But they had seemed logical at the time, and after the initial regret had faded, he’d managed to come up with several perfectly valid reasons to leave them in place. And as he pushed through the cog door and flew up the stairs into the Hub, he was never more grateful for his own stubborn laziness. He vaulted down the steps into the med lab, skidding to a halt next to Ianto’s slumped, listless form, fingers checking for a pulse before he’d even stopped moving. A huge sigh of relief escaped him as he found the rhythm. Slow, but regular.

“Ianto!” Owen said forcefully, gently tapping the younger man’s cheek. “Come on, mate. Don’t do this to me. Ianto! Wake up!”

Blearily, Ianto opened his eyes, squinting to try and bring Owen into focus. Giving up, he closed his eyes again and shoved Owen’s hand away from his neck.

“Leave off, Owen. Why are you even here? I just want to be alone.”

Owen allowed himself a brief second of relief that Ianto’s speech was neither slurred nor disassociated, which was a good sign. Less than a minute of searching produced the bottle of nicked narcotics, (thankfully normal and not alien,) and Owen grabbed them, shaking them in Ianto’s face.

“How many did you take, Ianto?” As seconds passed by with no response, Owen asked again, nearly shouting, “How many?!”

“Two.” Ianto informed him with a glare, “When you gave them to me last time, you said no more than two at a time. I was listening.” He pushed the bottle out of his face and laid his head back against the cool tile wall of the medical bay. “Why are you here? I don’t want you here. Go home.”

As the fear of facing a dire situation faded, Owen started to tremble slightly. Standing, he covered the reaction by putting the pill bottle back in the cabinet, making a small show of checking that none of the others were missing.

“I’m here, because in the middle of my third pint for the evening, my PDA goes off, alerting me that _someone_ has gotten into the pharmaceutical cookie jar. So, like any responsible doctor, I pull up the CCTV footage. And what do you think I saw, Ianto?” The man in question sunk further into himself, embarrassed at the prospect of what Owen had seen. Owen sighed, relenting. If he pushed now, Ianto would just retreat, only to fall apart again later. Closing the cabinet, Owen held out a hand to Ianto. “Come on. Let’s get you on the sofa. You’re wrinkling your suit.”

Owen barely had time to register the change in Ianto’s face before his hand was harshly slapped away, and Ianto had launched to his feet, turning on him.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we? The boss might be back any second, and he’ll want his whore to look nice and pretty when he comes home!” Ianto shouted before ripping off his tie and throwing it across the room, followed by his jacket and vest as he continued, “Well, I’m tired of painting myself up for him! I’m tired of whoring myself out for a chance to pretend I’m worth caring about! I’m tired of… hurting.” He finished with a broken sob, voice dropping along with his shoulders. “Everything hurts. Just like before, when he made me… but now he’s gone, and I… I don’t know what to do.”

As gently as his permanent gruffness would allow, Owen took Ianto’s elbow and led him up the stairs to the main sofa, easing his disoriented teammate onto the cushions. Then he grabbed Tosh’s chair and pulled it up next to the sofa, taking a seat with a deep breath. He knew he had to ask the question, but he really didn’t want to know the answer.

“Ianto. You and Jack. Did he… was he _forcing_ you to…?”

“No,” Ianto assured him, though his voice was anything but reassuring. He laid back, dropping his arm over his eyes with a sad, mocking laugh. “It’s even more pathetic than that. I know he’s just using me for stress relief, but I let him. Worse than that. I initiate it! I beg him to use me like a whore. If I stop, he won’t have a reason to keep me around. That’s all I’m good for anymore.”

“That’s enough,” Owen hissed through clenched teeth, “You are not a whore!”

“Yes, I am.” Ianto returned with a fiercely self-depreciating surety that made Owen’s heart ache, his next words so filled with agony and loathing, they burned themselves into Owen’s mind. “I’m nothing but Jack’s personal whore. Willing to bend over whenever, wherever he wants, knowing I’m nothing more than a warm hole to him, but so pathetically needy that I still crawl back to his bed, night after night. So desperate for attention that I go and beg him for the scraps of his affection like a mangy stray begging for food.”

“Ianto…”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Wha?” Owen mumbled, caught off guard.

“Every day, I titter around the Hub, making coffee, tidying up, coffee, tidy up, over and over and over, day after day after day… Because he’s gone.” Ianto’s arm slipped down his face as a sob escaped him, “What is there for me to do? Even my suit is pointless now. He’s not here to look anymore.”

“Wait,” Owen started, an understanding he hadn’t wanted dawning on him, “You wear a suit ‘cause…”

“I don’t need a suit to make coffee, Owen. Jack likes to look at me in a suit, so I wear a suit. Part of my ‘terms of employment’ you could say.”

If the words hadn’t bothered him, which they most assuredly did, then Owen would have been disturbed by Ianto’s tone of voice alone. Calm, resigned… empty.

“Terms of…?”

“I needed to get into the Hub to save Lisa, but Torchwood Three didn’t have any openings. At least, not for an office boy who’s only skill set was making coffee,” Ianto sighed deeply, shrugging his shoulders in remembered defeat, “So I made Jack a different offer. I played the part to earn his trust, and when it was over… I guess I can’t really complain that he took me up on it. At least I get paid.”

Owen sat in silence for a moment, processing everything Ianto had said. He wanted it to surprise him. And in a way, it did. Just not the way he’d hoped. When Jack had first introduced Ianto to the team, Owen had not so secretly thought the same thing. The part that surprised him was how Ianto had said it. Not with anger or malice, not even with sadness. Just heart-wrenching regret. It was a feeling he knew well.

“When did you realise you were…?” Owen hesitated to finish his question and break that last private barrier between them.

“That I was his whore?” Ianto scoffed.

“That you were in love with him.” Owen finished quietly.

Ianto froze, every muscle in his body tensing at the sudden vulnerability of Owen’s question. He turned his face away from the doctor, closing his eyes.

“I’m not in love with him.”

“Ianto, mate, just stop. Denying it isn’t going to make the pain any less.” Owen ran a hand down his face, gave Ianto a long, hard look, and took an educated guess. “Before or after he got stuck in 1941 with Tosh?”

Ianto flinched, and Owen sat forward in his chair, silently doubling down on the question. After another moment of silence, Ianto sighed, slumping back into the sofa, too tired to continue keeping up the facade.

“During.” He let out a soft breath of laughter, “Sixteen seconds before I shot you.”

“That’s… oddly specific…” Owen returned, suspiciously.

“I’m good with time,” Ianto said, with a half-hearted attempt at a smile, “And it was a rather important sixteen seconds.” Owen raised a curious eyebrow, encouraging Ianto to continue. “You said the rift took _your_ lover, _your_ Captain. I could give you Diane, but Jack? No. Jack was mine. And in that sixteen seconds, I realised that not only were you right about me being his part-time shag, but that I wanted something more than that. I loved him, and I wanted him to love me back.”

“And that’s when you shot me?”

“And that’s when I shot you.”

“And here I thought you were trying to stop me from destroying the world.”

“Of course not. Don’t be daft.”

The uneasy dread that had filled the room lightened a bit as they chuckled together softly. Struck by a sudden thought, Owen began to laugh a little harder, making Ianto sit up slightly to look at him with bemusement.

“Just remembering the first time I saw you put Jack back in his place.”

“And when was that?” Ianto asked, searching his memory for _any_ time he’d taken a dominant position against Jack, let alone a specific one.

“Your first day.” Owen smirked.

***

_“Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce Mr. Ianto Jones, previously of Torchwood One, but I’ve decided not to hold that against him.” Jack thundered, throwing an affectionate arm around Ianto’s shoulders. “As of today, he will be handling all administrative duties, as well as Hub maintenance and general cleaning.”_

_“Did you seriously hire an office boy?” Owen groaned, rolling his eyes._

_“He will_ also _be taking care of cleaning, sorting, and organizing the archives, which_ all _of you complain about, but have never offered to help with.” Jack continued, sweetening the pot for his team. He could see Suzie caving. She hated the archives. “Between that, his quite honestly amazing coffee, and how enticing he looks in a suit, I think he’ll make a great addition to the team.” Jack’s grin widened at Owen’s predictable response, as the doctor threw his hands in the air._

_“And_ there’s _the_ real _reason you brought in this kid, you perv!”_

_Before Jack could respond, Ianto spoke for the first time since entering the room._

_“One minute, forty eight seconds.”_

_A confusion born silence filled the boardroom as they all turned to look at their newest addition as though he’d sprouted a second head. Refusing to let himself be intimidated, Ianto squared his shoulders and met their gaze._

_“Excuse me?” Jack asked, vaguely wondering if Ianto’s Torchwood file had said anything about the young man being mad._

_“It took one minute and forty eight seconds after I came through the front door for you to harass me. I would appreciate it if you could hold out for a bit longer next time.” Ianto informed him with a smirk to rival even Jack’s best, holding up his stopwatch to show them the time._

_“Good luck with that.” Suzie scoffed, more familiar than she liked with Jack’s… unique personality._

_“Then I suppose I shall have to incentivise self-control,” Ianto sighed theatrically. Jack raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue, “If, for example, you were to make it past the ten minute mark, you would still be caffeinated, but at a much lower potency. And if you are unable to last even sixty seconds before resorting to harassment, then you will be relegated to instant decaf, as you are obviously far too excitable already.” Ianto threatened, his smirk growing wider._

_“So how long do I have to wait to avoid punishment?” Jack grinned, relishing in this new game he was getting to play._

_Ianto’s smirk turned a little more wicked._

_“Surely a man of your repute doesn’t have issues with stamina?” The entire team looked at Ianto, mouths slightly agape. “Coffee?”_

***

“I’d never seen anyone talk to Jack that way. And the look on his face when he realised you’d won! Ha! Made my week.”

Owen handed Ianto one of the beers he’d pulled from the fridge while they’d reminisced.

“He was more of a handful, then.” Ianto agreed with a chuckle of his own, enjoying the blissful state the medication had put him in.

“So all that… flirting. It was all a distraction then? Just how far were you willing to go?” Owen asked calmly, no malice or accusation in his voice.

“As far as I needed to.” Ianto answered, surprising both of them at his willingness to talk about his employment before they knew about Lisa. “But he never made a move. Didn’t even try to kiss me.”

“So you weren’t attracted to him. When did that change?”

“Oh, I’ve always been attracted to him. And you’re lying if you say you’re not, Owen Harper.” Smiling, Owen threw up his hands in mock surrender, and Ianto continued. “But it was just a bonus at first. Made it easier to flirt with him during the day. Then after Lisa… it all stopped. Couldn’t really expect him to keep flirting with me after I nearly destroyed the world now, could I? So…”

Ianto told Owen about finding The Ferret after a nightmare that first night. About how nice it had been to have someone to talk to. How he’d finally managed to tell Jack he wanted to be out in the field more… only for his first real field assignment to be in the Brecon Beacons. His aborted suicide attempt, Jack finding out about Mandy. And finally, the Saviour, leaving Jack to die, then turning around and rescuing him, and the extremely brief conversation that had led to their first kiss, followed by their first (and theoretically _only_ ,) night together.

Owen stared at Ianto, floored by what he’d just been told.

“Let me get this right. You sold our boss to intergalactic slave-traders, resulting in his death, changed your mind and decided to save him, then asked him home for a one-nighter?” Owen knew Torchwood didn’t do normal, but this… this was bizarre even by their standards.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Ianto, mate, you have got balls of steel.” Owen whistled softly, shaking his head in amazement. Then he looked at Ianto with a smirk. “So. One time, eh?”

“Yeah, well…” Ianto blushed, covering it by taking a swig of his beer. “Actually, I was alright with the one time. He made me… _feel_. For the first time in weeks, I didn’t have the weight of the world on my shoulders. And I felt like there was at least one person who cared about me, even a little.”

“Ianto…” Owen started, his mind trying to find the right words to tell Ianto how sorry he was for pushing the young man away when he needed friends the most, for being rubbish at emotions, and for a million other tiny things, but Ianto cut him off with a hand on his knee and a smile that said he already knew.

“The thing with Suzie hurt him. More than he let on.” Ianto continued, sitting back against the cushions, “He felt like he failed her. So, I thought, what do I have to lose? He helped me when I was hurting, so I offered to help him.”

A light clicked on in Owen’s head.

“I wondered why he sent us home early, but not you.”

Ianto smirked and took another sip.

“Don’t worry. I enjoyed my night in.” Owen grimaced at the thought, and Ianto chuckled. “So, one night became two, and two became slipping into the Hub when the nightmares got too bad, or staying late after a rough case.” Ianto turned the bottle in his hand, face growing somber again, eyes drooping with exhaustion. “He put me back together after everything. Seeing his smile every morning reminded me I could do this; I could live, I could have a purpose. He _made_ me live. He _became_ my purpose. And when he came back after… after he died, and he _kissed_ me, I thought maybe… But I should have known that was impossible. Men like Jack Harkness don’t fall in love, and if they do, they certainly don’t fall in love with the tea-boy.” Ianto’s eyes became unfocused, and he blinked trying to clear them. “He said he would protect me… save me… I trusted him not to hurt me… and now…”

The bottle slipped from Ianto’s grip as a sudden wave of tiredness washed over him. Owen caught it neatly, setting it on the nearby table with one hand, using the other to help lower Ianto down onto the sofa as the sedative he’d slipped into the beer started to take effect. Thankfully, Ianto let sleep claim him without much fuss. Owen tucked a blanket around his shoulders, and took a moment to just look at the broken man in front of him, his pain still so obvious, even in sleep. Overcome with a sudden, uncharacteristic tenderness, Owen brushed the hair from Ianto’s face.

“Oh, Jack,” he whispered, voice nearly inaudible, “Where the hell are you?”

***

_**Day 36** _

Around eight, Owen woke Ianto and sent him downstairs for a long, hot shower and a fresh change of clothes. He wanted to give Ianto an order of rest at home, but he knew it would take a few days for the younger man to recover from his breakdown, at least as much as he could, and although Owen knew Ianto hadn’t actually tried to take his own life, he also knew he’d feel better if they were both somewhere he could subtly keep an eye on him. He sent Gwen a final text, changed into one of his own spare sets of clothes, and headed into the filing room.

By the time Tosh and Gwen came through the cog door at ten to nine, Owen had pulled more than a dozen boxes out of the filing room and stacked them on the table in the boardroom. Ianto stood and watched as Owen set yet another box of files and paperwork on the already covered table, barely registering the door alarm as he tried to figure out why one of the rooms under his charge had exploded all over the boardroom.

“Owen, what…”

“Oh, good!” Gwen interrupted cheerily as she and Tosh joined the two men, “That should be plenty to get us started. Thanks, Owen!”

Owen gave her a mock salute and collapsed into the nearest chair with only partially feigned weariness. He’d barely slept the night before, keeping a doctor’s hawk-like watch over Ianto most of the night, and the boxes were much heavier than they looked.

“Started?” Ianto asked, turning to her in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Well,” Gwen began, picking up one of the random files and looking at it curiously, “I was thinking. This whole thing with Jack, it made me realise… well… we might be able to handle any crisis that the rift throws at us, but when it comes to the day to day stuff… we’re rubbish.”

“Oh. I see.” Ianto’s voice was flat and emotionless as he stared at the floor.

Owen glared at Gwen, but she calmed him with a hand.

“So, I thought about it, and this seemed the best way to handle things evenly. I told Owen, and he got everything ready.” She spread her arms, taking in the whole of the room.

“What is all this?” Tosh asked, worried.

“This,” Gwen answered, gesturing to the boxes again, “Is all of the paperwork Jack hasn’t done for the past month. We’re gonna spend the next few days, rift allowing, sorting, organizing, and generally taking care of this mess.”

Quietly, they all stared at the massive pile of neglected forms. Ianto could feel himself starting to hyperventilate. Paperwork, filing, cleaning up after Jack… that was _his_ job. But he was too broken to be of any use now. Last night had proved that. The team couldn’t even trust him to do his job any more. He’d already lost Jack, Torchwood was the only thing he had left. And now he was losing that too.

“I can do it.” He said quietly, voice trembling slightly, and barely audible. “Please. It’s my job.”

Ianto felt hands in his and looked up into Gwen’s warm, dark eyes.

“I know you can. We’ll never make it past the first page without your help.” She smiled gently at him, “And no, it’s Jack’s job. But, with Jack gone, you’re the only one who actually knows how this place works, Ianto. And I know, no one can fill his shoes, but that doesn’t mean you have to do everything on your own. We can at least help with this.” With a hand on his cheek, she gave him a long, deep look, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Ianto looked away, but, after a moment, squeezed her hand in gratitude and nodded.

“Well,” Owen clapped his hands and jumped up, reenergized, “If we’re gonna spend the day drowning in dead trees, then I demand Greggs.”

“They’ve only just opened,” Ianto rolled his eyes, straightening his shoulders as he pushed his emotions back, “I’ll be in the queue for more than an hour!”

Owen stepped over and placed a hand on Ianto’s shoulder with a smirk.

“Best get going then.”

***

Once the cog door had closed behind Ianto, Owen sat back down in one of the chairs, Gwen and Tosh following suit as he started talking.

“Ianto got into the narcotics last night,” He informed them, holding up a hand when they both started to ask questions at once. “He wasn’t trying to off himself. The stress and everything just got to him, and he didn’t want to think for a bit. I’m not saying it’s healthy, and I won’t be letting him do it again, but at least we don’t have to put him on a watch.”

“What happened?” Tosh asked, concerned. “You said if he lost hope...”

“And I was right.” Owen informed her, “Sort of.”

Owen pulled up the CCTV footage from the Hub the night before, and showed the women what had happened. He knew it was a huge violation of privacy, but Ianto needed help, and Owen knew he couldn’t do it alone. Both of the women were crying silently by the time the screen showed Ianto succumbing to the sedative.

“He can’t think that. He just can’t!” Gwen cried, turning to Owen and taking his hand when he offered.

“Jack became his coping mechanism. For everything. Nightmares, rough day at work, guilt from past mistakes, he took all of that to Jack.” Owen explained, offering his other hand to Tosh, who took it gladly. “But Jack isn’t here anymore. And we can’t afford to lose Ianto too.”

“That’s why you had me make the scene with the boxes.” Gwen chimed in, understanding dawning.

“Exactly,” Owen confirmed with a nod, “Right now, he thinks his only use to Torchwood is warming Jack’s bed, so, we are going to show him just how important he is to this place, even without Jack.”

“And we accomplish that by sorting paperwork?” Tosh inquired, curious as to how Owen’s plan was meant to work.

“Sort of. We accomplish it by showing him that absolutely none of this paperwork can get done without his help. We start asking him more questions, have him help us more with cases, even take him out with us if the risk is low. He needs to feel important. Included.” Owen looked at the two women who were doubting their abilities to help their teammate. “It’s either that, or try to explain to a therapist that his reason for being upset is that his immortal boss-slash-fuck buddy, who killed his previous girlfriend, up and deserted him for a time traveling alien in a police box. I’m sure it would go over swimmingly.” Owen dropped the sarcasm and sighed. “It’s the only way I can think to help him.”

Tosh put out her free hand, taking Gwen’s hand and holding tightly.

“We can do it.” She said with conviction. “We have to.”

***

**_Day 79_ **

Ianto hated the Himalayas.

***

**_Day 92_ **

“You know, when I graduated med school, I never thought I’d be carving up extraterrestrials for a living.” Owen said casually, taking another swig of the _extremely_ smooth whiskey they’d pilfered from Jack’s office, courtesy of the all-knowing Ianto.

It had been a long day of cover ups and ret-con after a group of primary school kids had found a mostly dead alien creature in the woods and brought it to school to show it off. Which is when the poor thing had woken up, hurt and confused, and proceeded to attempt an escape. By the time Torchwood had arrived, the school was in a full on melt-down, and the creature had died. Upon returning to the Hub, Owen had immediately suggested a trip to the pub.

_“I’ll do you one better,”_ Ianto had said with a smirk, jogging into Jack’s office for a moment, before returning with two bottles of whiskey, _“I know where he keeps the good stuff.”_

So, for the last hour they’d been sitting around the boardroom table, talking, laughing, and generally enjoying each other’s company. And Jack’s whiskey.

“I know what you mean,” Tosh agreed with the doctor with a smile, “I didn’t study computer sciences because I wanted to spend my life running around Wales looking for alien space junk.”

“That’s all nice for you,” Ianto scoffed lightheartedly, “I work for one of the most secret, powerful organizations in the world… as a butler.”

“What even _is_ your official title here at Torchwood, Mr. Jones?” Owen asked, his sarcasm only amplified by the alcohol.

“Head Archivist. Which seems a bit redundant as I’m the only one’s likely to be down there.” Ianto slurred, cheerily enjoying the way his mind felt as though he was floating.

“I’ve been down there a few times,” Tosh admitted with an adorable attempt at a mischievous smirk, “It’s kind of interesting seeing all the different artefacts we’ve found over the years.”

“Best avoid that place, Tosh,” Ianto warned with a wicked smile and a wink, “I tend to make sure I’m only ever down there alone, so Jack has a tendency to fondle anything that moves.”

The table erupted with laughter as Tosh threw a hand over her mouth in a parody of scandalized shock.

“So you and he… in the Hub?” Gwen asked a bit disjointedly. Ianto made a mental note to cut her off soon.

“He does live here you know.” Ianto replied, a bit condescendingly.

“I know that,” She replied, her sarcasm matching his, “I just thought he’d go to yours.”

“What are you going to do when he gets back?” Tosh interrupted suddenly, her drunk mind only half paying attention to the conversation, and not realising the wasp’s nest she’d just stepped in. Owen reached over and gently lifted the drink from her hand, setting it on the table out of her reach, and keeping an eye on Ianto’s response.

“I don’t know,” Ianto answered truthfully, “I can’t decide whether I want to kiss him or kill him. Might do both.” Ianto gave a short laugh, heavy with sadness, then went quiet. “I really don’t know.”

***

**_Day 103_ **

Ianto felt his heart beating in his throat, air coming in soft, shallow breaths, his ears still ringing from the gunshot that had killed the blowfish. _Jack is back._ His mind screamed with the thought. All those months of missing him, waiting for him, and now… he didn’t know what to do. Subconsciously, he slipped his hand into Tosh’s, sitting next to him in the back of the SUV, suddenly desperately in need of physical reassurance. She squeezed his hand gently and started taking more obviously measured, even breaths, giving him a silent guide to ease his breathing back under control.

When they arrived at the Hub, Tosh held him back for a brief second before they left the SUV.

“Ignore him. Focus on working for now. We’ll sit down and wring him later.” She whispered, eyes dark and fierce.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure whether she meant to wring Jack for information… or wring his neck. Deciding either was acceptable, he nodded and left the SUV, heading into the Hub and resolutely refusing to look at Jack. At least, until Gwen shoved him into the office door.

***

_**Day 104** _

Owen was in the backseat keeping an eye on Gwen’s recovery, while Ianto drove, holding Tosh’s hand in his free one, comforting her. The SUV was quiet, but in a relieved way, the only sound the soft clicks from Toshiko’s computer. They were all alive.

“Ianto.” Tosh said, letting go of his hand to finish reading something on her laptop. “Police are responding to reports of a man who fell from an office building on the west side. There’s some confusion though, since there doesn’t appear to be a body.”

“Oh, that’s just what we need,” Owen rolled his eyes, “At least now we know he’s actually willing to kill us.” Owen shifted in his seat, trying to take more weight off of his hip. “Deadly force?”

“Deadly force.” Ianto confirmed, pulling his spare gun from the glove compartment.

“Ianto, while you were…” Owen attempted, clearing his throat and trying again, “Did Jack try anything?”

“No,” Ianto assured the doctor, “But he _did_ ask me out on a date. A proper one. Dinner. Movie. Like a real date.”

“What did you say?” Tosh asked, concerned.

“I… said yes.” Ianto admitted, a little shyly.

“Is that what you wanted to say?” Gwen questioned, her near death encounter making her a bit icier than normal.

“Yes, it’s what I wanted to say,” Ianto replied, rolling his eyes slightly, “I still… care about him, and if he’s willing to be serious… I want to give it a go.”

There was silence again for a moment before Owen spoke up, voice hard.

“If he so much as _thinks_ about trying anything with you without your say…”

“I’ll shoot him in the head myself.” Ianto assured him, his own voice equally serious. “I’m not saying I forgive him. I’m just saying that I’m open to the _possibility_ of forgiving him.”

Owen glared at Ianto for a moment, unconvinced, but they were pulling into the garage of the Hub, and there were bad guys to catch.

***

_**Day 103 (Again)** _

The time distortion forced them into a hotel for the evening, until they could rejoin the world at the proper time, without causing any damage to the timeline. Jack chose one of the nice, but not ostentatious hotels in Cardiff, and he and Ianto went to see about some rooms.

“Five singles please. Same floor if you can manage.” Jack said to the hotel desk attendant, flashing one of his trademark smiles.

“Make that three singles and a double suite.” Owen corrected, sliding up to the counter between Jack and Ianto. Owen felt Ianto stiffen behind him as Jack turned and gave him a curious look. “It’ll be hard to debrief in a single.”

Jack’s smile faded in confusion, and he gave a single nod in response, too tired to argue. Owen held up his hand and Ianto slid a card between his fingers without comment. When they got their keys, Owen took the keys for the double and handed one to Ianto, keeping the other for himself. A flash of confused hurt swept across Jack’s face, but he covered it quickly, taking his own key and following the doctor to the suite.

It wasn’t the most lavish suite Jack had ever seen, but it was still exceedingly comfortable. There was a loveseat nestled between two arm chairs, with the second bed just close enough for a fifth to feel included. Jack took the bed, knowing that even the false sense of distance it created was necessary with his team at the moment. He’d have to earn their trust back. Tosh took one of the arm chairs, and Owen sat in the loveseat beside her. Gwen paused before taking a seat and turned to Ianto.

“Ianto, love.” Gwen started, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I know it’s late and we’re all knackered, but would you hate me if I asked you to run out for some take away? I’m right famished.”

“Sure.” Ianto took a deep breath and smiled tiredly, turning and heading back out the door, his mind already running through the list of options still available at this time of night.

As the hotel door clicked shut behind him, and Gwen took the second arm chair, Jack felt a distinct change in the air around him. For a moment, he was back in Estelle’s parlor, mouth dry with anxiety at the idea of asking her father for her hand. He sat forward, clasped hands resting on his thighs.

“I know what you’re going to say…” He started, but that was as far as he got.

“Way I see it, you have two choices.” Owen interrupted, voice calm and leveled and barbed with ice. “Assuming, of course, that you actually take him on this date you’ve promised, and you talk enough and you grovel enough that he agrees to take you back,” Jack opened his mouth to ask how Owen had known about that, but Owen shut him down with a pointed glare. “Either you stop treating him like he’s just another part-time shag, and start working on having a real, serious relationship with him, or you go back to being his boss. Nothing more. And I mean _nothing_ . No flirting, no cracks about how he looks in a suit… you don’t even _look_ at him with a thought that isn’t clean and pure. Those are your options. And you’ll just have to be satisfied with whatever decision he allows you to make. But you understand this, Jack Harkness,” Owen sat forward in his seat, holding Jack’s eyes with his own, “Now matter which way he chooses, if you ever, _ever_ , hurt him again, we will drag you down to the Vaults and spend the next ten years finding out just how many different ways you can die.”

Jack felt the blood drain from his face and turn to ice in his veins. He clenched his hands together and willed his body to relax as he looked at his team, the fire in their eyes telling him that not only did they all agree, but the threat had been deadly serious. It was a threat he’d heard before. Long ago, Alice and Emily had used it to try and convince him to work for Torchwood. He’d scoffed at them and walked away. But now… It had been less than a day since he’d escaped from The Valiant, where the Master had spent the better part of a year turning that once benign threat into a stark and agonizing reality.

Owen didn’t know it, but he’d used a threat that, at that particular moment, carried more weight than any other threat had, or would, in Jack’s long life time. If he had, he would have accepted Jack’s speechless nod for the answer it was; the soul-felt promise of a penitent man, that he would make things right, knowing first hand what the price would be if he failed. Instead, Owen saw a half-hearted acknowledgement, meant more as a way of ending the conversation than an actual agreement. His vision went red with fury. But before he could leap across the table and beat Jack to a bloody pulp, Tosh’s hand on his arm stopped him. She gestured to Jack, and he looked again. This time, he saw it. He relaxed back into his seat, temper evaporating.

“So, I take it your trip didn’t involve many moonlit walks along the beach.” Owen said after a moment of silence, more as a statement than a question.

“No.” Jack confirmed, voice thick with barely repressed emotion.

The team was silent for a moment as they processed the implications of the single word response. 

“Okay. So you weren’t on a pleasure cruise. I’m sorry ‘bout that. I am. But you didn’t even leave us a note! That police box showed up and you didn’t give a single thought for what your leaving was gonna do to us. To him! You put him back together after all the stuff with Lisa, and the cannibals, and Suzie… You showed him that there was more to his life than constant pain. You made him feel wanted, and needed, and… cared for. You became the foundation he rebuilt his entire life around. And then you vanished. You made yourself indispensable, and then you abandoned him.” Owen wiped away the renegade tear that had run down his cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It nearly destroyed him.”

“Tell me.” Jack said quietly, eyes wet with tears of his own. “Tell me what happened. Make me listen to the pain I caused.”

His voice was so filled with self-loathing, so… broken, Gwen’s heart went to him a little. She stood and sat next to him on the bed, taking his hand in hers.

“Jack. You don’t need to…”

“Yes, Gwen. I do. Owen’s right.” Jack met Owen’s gaze. “Please. Tell me what I did.”

So, after a brief moment of hesitation, Owen told him. He told Jack about the nightmares, the sleepless nights, the denial, the exhaustion… and the drugs. Jack started to shake as Owen recounted how he’d found Ianto in the Hub that night, and Gwen put her arm around the Captain’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly, as though she could keep him together by sheer force alone. The tears Jack had been holding back fell in rivers when Owen told him how Ianto had seen himself. _I’m nothing but Jack’s personal whore. Willing to bend over whenever, wherever he wants, knowing I’m nothing more than a warm hole to him, but so pathetically needy that I still crawl back to his bed, night after night. So desperate for attention that I go and beg him for the scraps of his affection like a mangy stray begging for food._

Tosh had moved to Jack’s side now as well, holding his other hand, and rubbing calming circles low on his back. The sobs were quiet, but unmistakable, and even Owen felt slightly guilty at the sight of Jack’s pain. He stood and went to Jack, crouching down in front of him and placing a hand on his knee. Once Jack’s breathing started returning to normal, Owen continued his story. He talked about Ianto’s slow, but steady recovery, about the team finally finding a system that worked for them and kept arguing to a minimum. About how every day was a challenge, but they were managing… and about how different Ianto had been since Jack had returned. Scared, nervous… hopeful.

“He loves you, Jack.” Owen said quietly, but with no less feeling.

“I don’t deserve him.” Jack stifled a sob.

“No. You don’t. So if you’re not going to take things with him seriously, then you better walk away now. Because I will _not_ watch him go through that again.”

“It was never like that. I never felt that… I _do_ care about him. He saved me.” Jack insisted, voice low and pained. “I came back for him.”

“I can see that. But I’m not the one you’ve got to convince.”

“Aren’t you?” Jack asked with a mocking laugh, dropping Gwen’s hand and gesturing to the shared hotel room. “You didn’t mention this part.”

“This,” Owen hissed through clenched teeth, clenching his fist to keep himself from decking the Captain, “ _This_ is because a few hours ago, _your pal_ sent him running through Cardiff thinking he might be the only one of us still alive. And a few hours before _that_ , the man who’s been at the center of all his pain the last few months just waltzed back into his life like nothing happened. Both of those are situations I am fairly certain are going to trigger one of his nightmares tonight, so instead of having the front desk call one of us in a panic about a disturbed young man in the lobby, it’ll be easier if I’m already in the room. I can calm him down.”

“Oh.” Jack responded quietly, suitably ashamed of his inaccurate assumption.

“Yeah.” Owen said just as quietly, anger rising once again, “Because unlike you, I just sit with him and listen. I don’t whore him out just to make myself feel better.”

Jack lunged up from the bed, grabbing for Owen’s throat, but he made it less than two steps before a voice stopped them both in their tracks.

“That’s enough! Both of you!” Ianto shouted, closing the door no one had noticed opening. “It’s been a long, tiring day, and I don’t want to spend the rest of it cleaning blood out of the carpet. So sit down, both of you.” Slowly, tempers still hot, Jack and Owen did what Ianto said. Ianto turned to Gwen and Tosh. “Everywhere’s closed, so I put in an order for room service with the restaurant downstairs. I would have given you more time, but the only newspaper in the bar was already being used. So I came up to see if they’d killed each other yet.”

“Not quite. And we were actually getting somewhere for a minute…” Tosh lamented, giving both men a stern glare in turn.

“That’s a shame,” Ianto agreed before turning to their leader, his voice level, but crisp, “Jack. Who I sleep with and when is no longer your concern, unless it adversely affects my work. I’ve already made it clear I’m open to changing that, and giving things with us a go, but it’s not going to happen overnight, and you need to respect that. Although, for the record, I would never sleep with Owen.”

“Diddo.” Owen interjected, causing Ianto to spin and turn his glare on the doctor.

“Owen. I already told you I was going to give things with Jack a go, and I specifically remember saying that if he tried to touch me unwanted, I’d kill him. I appreciate that you’re trying to help, I do. And if you think I haven’t noticed everything you’ve done for me the last few months, you’re dead wrong. But _I_ get to choose when to forgive Jack for hurting me. Not you. Are we clear?” Owen nodded, just once, in acknowledgement. “Good. Now, dinner should be here any minute. Can we all be civil?”

Everyone nodded, and Ianto gestured to the seating area, taking the spot on the loveseat next to Owen. They sat in silence for a moment before Jack had calmed down enough, and gathered enough courage to speak.

“So, I take it, you know what we were talking about?”

“They always send me out for food or coffee when they need to have a chat about how to help me cope when something goes balls up. I think it’s sweet.” Ianto smiled softly, pointedly keeping his eyes on Jack and not looking at his teammates. “And at a guess, I’d assume they told you I had a nervous breakdown a couple months ago, and then made various threats about what would happen to you if you hurt me again. Am I close?”

“Spot on.” Jack replied with a weak attempt at a laugh.

“What was it? Locked in a cage with weevils?” Ianto asked lightheartedly, a slight quirk at the corner of his lips.

“No. Multiple homicide.” Jack returned with the same tone.

“Ah. Classic.”

Jack smiled, relishing in the banter he’d so missed those long months chained in the engine room of The Valiant.

“I missed you.” Jack sighed softly, his only clue he’d been heard a slight blush rising in Ianto’s cheeks.

“We are sitting right here.” Owen interjected quietly, not wanting to spoil the moment between the two men, but also not willing to sit through much more sap.

“Where were you Jack? What happened?” Ianto asked gently, covering his reaction to Jack’s admission.

As his memories rose up, unbidden, to answer the question, Jack dropped his gaze to the carpet, the subtle pattern in the weave suddenly fascinating while he tried to even his breathing back out. He thought about lying, or giving them a gross generalization of what he’d been through, but he knew he couldn’t stomach either option. After everything he’d done, they were sitting there, time the only barrier to earning their forgiveness. But he knew he couldn’t tell them everything either. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to voice the true horrors he’d experienced out loud to anyone. With a deep breath, he decided to tell them what he could.

“How long have I been gone?”

“What, they don’t have clocks in time machines?” Owen snarked, but he raised his hands and backed down when Ianto glared at him.

“One hundred and three days. As of this morning. One hundred and four if you count the repeat.” Ianto answered, the reason behind the specific answer not lost on Jack.

“From your perspective,” Jack added, making the other four look at him quizzically, “For me, it was just over a year. We tried to land only a few minutes after I left, but this was the closest we could get. Destroying the paradox left a wound in time, which prevented the TARDIS from being able to land.”

“You destroyed a paradox?” Ianto and Owen asked simultaneously, while Gwen asked,

“You were gone over a year?”

Jack held up a hand and smiled.

“There was this… guy. Alien. He tried to use a paradox machine to destroy the human race. But the Doctor hacked into the network, psychically, while Ma… his companion spread the plan for defeating him around the world.”

“And what did you do?” Tosh asked, now curious.

“I…” Jack swallowed thickly, “I was the distraction. Lotta things a psychopath can do with a subject who can’t die.” He finished with a harsh, self-deprecating laugh.

“Oh, Jack…” Gwen whispered, stopping herself from reaching out a hand to him.

“It’s nothing,” Jack insisted, smiling as wide as ever, “And it’s over now. Never happened, actually. We destroyed the timeline when we destroyed the machine. We saved the world. That’s all that matters.”

“Not to be a doubting Thomas, but I’m pretty sure we’d remember the world almost ending…” Owen pressed, still angry from earlier.

“How was the Himalayas?” Jack asked, cutting Owen off. They stared at him in shock for a moment, unsure what to make of the question, and the knowledge behind it. “That’s where he sent you. Sent you on a wild goose chase so he’d know exactly where to find you to…” Jack trailed off, leaving the team to infer the rest.

“He killed us. Didn’t he?” Tosh asked, voice scared and barely audible.

“Yeah,” Jack responded, eyes wet with unshed tears as he looked up and held Ianto’s gaze, “That was a bad couple weeks.” He broke the gaze and took a deep breath, pushing his emotions into the back of his mind. “But it’s over now. Never happened. And you’re all safe. That’s all that matters.”

“How long have you been free?” Owen’s question was hesitant, as though he expected Jack not to answer him.

“A little less than twenty four hours,” Jack answered, a little sharper than he meant. He gestured at the room around them, voice softening, “Time fluctuations notwithstanding.”

Dinner arrived, with impeccable timing, and they ate in a semi-comfortable silence, each pondering the information they’d received in the last hour. Tosh and Gwen excused themselves shortly after finishing dinner, wanting to shower before laying down for the night. Owen looked at Jack expectantly, startled when Ianto put a hand on his shoulder.

“I need to talk to him. Alone.” Ianto said, gripping tighter when Owen made to protest. “Nothing’s going to happen. I’ll be fine. Besides,” He glanced at Jack for a moment, “I’m not the only one who’s likely to have nightmares tonight.”

Unwillingly, Owen nodded, snatching the key from Jack’s hand and heading towards the door. He turned at the last moment and gave Ianto a long look. Ianto nodded in answer to the silent statement, and Owen left. The two men sat in silence for a moment before Ianto broached the tension with a soft voice.

“He made you watch. Didn’t he?”

“Yes.” Jack said finally, tone low and hoarse.

“Weeks?”

“Yes. Weeks.” He paused. “For them.”

“And for me?”

“Months.” Jack whispered, strangling on the sob that threatened to leave him. “After you were gone, I knew. I knew we had to win, we had to undo what he’d done, because I couldn’t… I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing you again.” Jack stood and slowly walked towards Ianto, watching the younger man’s face for any sign of discomfort. He knelt in front of him and took his hands, tears rolling down his cheeks as he continued, “Owen told me what happened, with the medicine, and I… it happened again. Just like after the cannibals, only this time… this time it was my fault. _I_ caused you that hurt. And what you said… God, what you said… I never, _never_ saw you that way. _Never!_ ” Jack looked up at Ianto, his gaze fierce despite the tears. “Ianto. The Doctor could have taken me anywhere in the universe. Any point in time and space. And I told him there was only one place I wanted to be. Here, in Cardiff. With you. Please. I need you to know that.”

“I meant what I said. Nothing’s going to happen tonight. And nothing _will_ happen unless we do this properly.” Ianto said, squeezing Jack’s hands gently when the Captain dropped his gaze at the words. “But honestly, I think I might completely fall to pieces if you don’t hold me soon.”

Jack looked up and immediately recognized the look in Ianto’s eyes. It was the one Jack had seen for weeks after Lisa died. Pure, unadulterated _need._ It wasn’t sexual, though Jack had always treated it that way, and it had always worked. It was a need to be seen, noticed… wanted. He pulled Ianto to his feet, suddenly unsure of what to do. The rules were different now, and he didn’t want to cross the invisible line on accident. Ianto sensed his distress and put Jack’s hands on the buttons of his blue shirt.

“Everything but your pants. And your undershirt.” Ianto told him softly, his fingers lingering on Jack’s a moment longer than was necessary before slipping out of his jacket. “Your clothes will wrinkle if you sleep in them.”

Jack tried to hide a smile as he removed his outer clothing while simultaneously trying _not_ to watch Ianto undress. It was difficult, but he tore his eyes away, telling himself firmly that he would do this right and take it seriously. Ianto deserved so much more, but Jack could at least do that much.

They crawled under the covers and Ianto laid his head on Jack’s shoulder, pulling him close. Jack buried his face in Ianto’s hair, and together, holding each other as tightly as they could, they wept. Only this time, it was tears of relief. They were finally back together, and the darkness had passed. And when the dawn sun broke over the duvet the next morning, Jack looked down at the man sleeping peacefully in his arms, and he knew he was finally home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always, leave me a comment and let me know what you thought!


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